


We know now.

by nattycakes



Series: Cuffed. [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anal Play, BDSM, Butt Plugs, D/s, Dom/sub, Fisting (mentioned), Flogging, Frottage, M/M, Oral Sex, PWP, Plot What Plot, Porn, Porn Without Plot, Spanking, bamboo flogging, coutning, ive not written porn in a long time im sorry, mutal masturbation, straight up porn, talk of limits, talk of orgasm denial, this is was fun, top!John, well not sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-29
Updated: 2014-04-29
Packaged: 2018-01-21 05:50:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1539971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nattycakes/pseuds/nattycakes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John would be forever grateful when he said in frustration, "If you don't hurry up, I'll spank you."</p>
            </blockquote>





	We know now.

**Author's Note:**

> I promised my friend Lily that I would write her some hopefully decent Top!John with porn and some funny to it. Legit I do not have a plot, here's some porn. As per usual, I do not have a beta, and this as not been Brit-Picked. If you want the job, contact me. Hahaha.

Sherlock was already waiting for him in his room. Kneeling in the waiting position, naked. He knew that’s where he was, it was far too quiet in the rest of the house for nothing but this to be going on. 

He kicked off his shoes, toed off his socks, and went to the bathroom. Making Sherlock wait just a bit longer wouldn’t hurt anything, well maybe his knees. Quick scrub and he could put himself together for their scene this evening. 

John wanted to protest weeks ago, saying this was all the genius’ idea, but it wasn’t. Not really. In a rather heavy snogging session a few weeks ago, John was hard as a rock. Almost to the point where he was going to come in his pants just by Sherlock’s palm on his trousers. Not down them, mind you, that could be excused, just the bit of friction of Sherlock’s palm on them. It was driving him mad. Completely up the wall, so when John moaned out “if you don’t hurry up, I’ll spank you.” Well, he thought, that was just a phrase. 

What he did not expect was for Sherlock to undo his trousers, and lay himself across John’s lap. His body was like sinew really, muscle, almost no fat, and a very high arse. John would nibble on it from time to time just to get a reaction. It never failed to make Sherlock go “Really John?” before he would relax around it. John wasn’t sure if this was a power play, or what in the fresh hell was going on. Obviously he was not the only one who had gone completely mad. 

“Sherlock, are you, I mean, do you want.. Sherlock what do you want me to do?”

“Obvious John. You said you were going to spank me, so spank me. You may never get another chance, so I would take the opportunity given to you.” His voice was deep, even. Steady. It was hot, he couldn’t deny that. With a bit of roughness to his touch, started to massage Sherlock’s arse, with each kneed going a bit hard, deeper. A deep guttural moan came out of Sherlock, “John. John please.” 

Thawk. John heard himself let out a breath he wasn’t sure he was holding in.  
Thawk. Sherlock let out a breath that John knew he was holding in, but felt him rut against his leg.  
Thawk. Harder this time, he was sure he was going to leave a mark, Sherlock was all but putty under his hand.  
Thawk. 

That thawk though, that sent Sherlock straight up straddling him, pulling John out of his trousers. They kissed roughly, teeth clacking and mouths everywhere. No teasing touches now, short quick pulls Sherlocks long fingers covering them both. It didn’t take long, one thumb over John’s slit and he came shuddering, Sherlock following not long after that. 

They were in a mess on the couch. Covered in come, and half covered in clothes. John was the first one to speak.  
“So that was-” 

“John that was the-”

“What now?”

He didn’t even need to see the gleam in Sherlock’s eye, he heard it. “Research.” 

In the weeks that followed, rules were put down. 

“John if we’re going to do a scene,” Sherlock drawled, “Don’t look at me like that I’ve been researching. We should do it in your bedroom.” 

“Agreed. Tea?” 

“That easy?” 

“Don’t sound so surprised, I would be calling the ‘shots’ as it were, and in saying that, my room that we rarely use should be for that reason. I don’t sleep there, and you don’t sleep, so logically, my room.” 

“Well reasoned John.” 

“Don’t sound so impressed Sherlock. It’s rude.” he rolled his eyes a bit, “Now you can get your own damn tea.” 

Which then progressed into other topics. 

“John what are your soft limits?” Sherlock didn’t even look up from his, wait, no John’s laptop. 

“Why is it always my laptop?”

“Answer the question, you know how thrilled I get having to repeat myself.” 

“You’re writing a fucking spreadsheet aren’t you? Christ. Okay. Give us a few.” He rolled over a few things in his mind that he had been fantasizing about in the shower, and tried to think of the direct opposite. That’s a place to start at, right? “If you piss on me, I will kill you. No body fluids, save come. Blood, scat, piss, puke, that’s never ever going to happen.” 

Sherlock had the grace to look affronted, but John continued before he could say anything. “I do not think I could handle water play with you, or anything thing with electronics. At all.” 

“Interesting John, I was looking forward to some electrodes, do you want to go ahead and mark those as soft limits, or hard limits then?” 

“Mark all of them as hard but the electronics. We can discuss that at a later date to see what we are comfortable with together.” 

John started watching a re-run of QI, when he realised he didn’t ask Sherlock what his limits were. 

“I do not mind not speaking, but I do not want to try gagging yet. No whips, no water play, or body fluids other than come. Again, I will add from, and take from as we discuss it. I think we should have a cool down moment afterwards every time to go over what we liked, and what we didn’t like. At least at the start of it. It would also go with the aftercare portion, which almost every website suggest is what makes a couple stronger.” 

Johns heart swelled. This was something Sherlock actually wanted, and when he really wanted something, he went all out. “Alright, safewords?” 

“Yellow and red of course.”

“Well, I mean, some people use fruit, or --” 

“Nonsense John, yellow to slow a scene down, reconnect with each other, and red to stop overall, and go into aftercare. Besides, what if I wanted to put fruit in,”

“You know Sherlock, I’m pretty sure you’re joking, but even if you’re not, I don’t want to know.” He took a deep breath, letting all the new information, and emotions of what was happening soak in. “Red and yellow, okay.” He turned to Sherlock and starting kissing up his jawline.

“John, researching.” he determinedly didn’t move towards John’s mouth. 

“Sherlock, this isn’t the only way I want to have sex, and I want to show you how much I absolutely adore every single part of you. Right now, starting with your jaw line, going down your collar bone, down your ribs, to your waist, and then I will slowly and thoroughly give you the best blow job you’ve had thus far.” 

“I could be amenable to that.” 

John had already started walking to Sherlock’s bedroom, “And leave the laptop, you will be too exhausted to add on to that today.” 

Sherlock didn’t need to be told twice. When it came to John’s instructions, he usually followed them to the letter. Thankfully. 

He started washing his hair now, thinking about the toy shop they went to. “John we need the right equipment, if you think I’m going to let you use a regular belt on me, you are mistaken.” 

“Fine, Sherlock, fine fine fine.” He was frustrated. Lack of sleep, and too many hours at the surgery was starting to get to him. He needed a long back massage, and a good shag. Neither at this moment looked likely. Sherlock was in the home stretch of research, and saving up energy to trying all his new toys, positions, and punishments out. 

So here they were, far out of The City of Westminster, now in Ilford at a place called “Lovebunny Sex Toys.” Really, really they couldn’t have stuck out like sore thumbs even more if they tried. 

Sherlock was eyeing floggers with a rabbit (synthetic) end, and John looked like he would be happy if a sinkhole happened at any moment swallowing up into the earth to rot.

“John I rather like the feel of this one, but I like the length of this one with the leather tip. Of course, the leather tip would be used more for punishments, do you think we should get, John? John why are you standing there mute?” He didn’t even raise his eyes from the floor. “Oh, you’re embarrassed.” 

“It’s not so much that, but um, Sherlock can’t we look at this stuff online. It’s rather private.” 

Sherlock crossed over to him, the flogger with the leather tip in hand. “You need the feel of it, the weight in your strong hand. You need to know if it’s going to have enough pressure to inflict on me what you want. To leave little marks of encouragement, or larger marks to remember later.” Sherlock’s voice was like gin over ice, soothing and silky. 

Clearing his throat, “Alright then, alright. Let’s look.” on the plus side John thought, Sherlock only raised an eyebrow when John readjusted his trousers. 

They left with several bags, and no handcuffs. They already had several pairs of their own, and besides, Sherlock could slip out of those anyway. 

John was typing up the latest case the next time the subject was broached. “John come watch some videos with me, also we need to think of what I’ll call you.” 

“Bloody hell are you asking me to watch porn with you? And why wouldn’t you call me John?” He got up from his chair anyway, bringing his paper to the couch with him. “Are you still using my laptop? You utter cock.”

Sherlock couldn’t hide the smirk, but continued anyway. “It doesn’t set the scene. I will not call you Master, because I am my own Master. I am sharing my body with you, and you with me. You do not own me, and I do not own you. Therefore, I will not call you master. I suppose I could call you Doctor, but that might,” He didn’t even get the sentence out. 

“You may call me Sir. But only in that room, and only in that context. I’m still am, and will always be your John.” They shared a long kiss, almost lazy giving into one another. 

“Before we continue, I have some videos of some scenes I would rather like you to watch and gauge your reaction, as well as mine to you.” 

The first video was of a man bound with his arms tied to the bedpost at the head, on his knees which John had always assumed was universally called ‘doggy style’. The second man came in, and didn’t say a word, just started off with tickling the mans feet. 

“I am adding that to my hard limits John.” 

John nodded and mentally added ‘tickle Sherlock the next time he’s left a foot in the crisper’, to his mind. The man then started kissing the back of the first man’s knees, then started using a bamboo stick on the back of the man’s thighs. Not hard, more of a swish really, but over and over again it had to really start to hurt. The man tied up didn’t say anything, but was squirming against his restraints. Pulling on them, pushing himself into the bamboo stick. The man with the stick put it down beside the bed, called his sub a good boy, and started rubbing his arse cheeks, saying he was allowed to moan, but not talk. 

“That I could deal with, you moaning under my hands, begging me to continue.” 

“John if you talk we’ll never get through this.” Sherlocks eyes had started to become heavy lidded, John liked where this was going. Well, his cock liked it a bit more at the moment, he was already half hard. 

The man standing pulled out a tube of lube from his pocket, and starting liberally squeezing it on his fingers, and on the mans arse hole, sliding two fingers in easily. John squirmed a bit. He had Sherlock have had a physical side to their relationship for over a year now, and were not at that point, then again, they didn’t make porn films either. When the man added the third, the man tied up lifted his arse up and moaned loudly, trying to push the man’s fingers to that soft nub inside. The hand on John’s thigh started slowly going up and down John’s leg, and his cock kept lengthening. Yes, John thought, god yes this. I want to do this to him. I want to make Sherlock totally undone. John just continued to stare at Sherlock’s hand, going higher and higher every time, starting to push in a bit at the crease of his thigh, then the hand stilled. John looked up, the man had put his whole fist in the other mans arse, the man was almost screaming in pain. 

“John that’s a hard limit.”

“No worries there,” His cock had gone totally soft at the sight, “I don’t fancy fisting your arsehole. Licking it, fucking it with my tounge? Yes. My whole fist? Never going to happen.” The mood was totally gone, and John figured they would learn more with just trying than anything else. “Sherlock I think it’s time. We’ve been researching for months. Tea?” 

“Yes John.” 

“To the tea, or?” 

“Dull John. Very dull.” 

John made their tea, and reminded himself to pick up the little gift he had made for Sherlock tomorrow before he went to the surgery. 

“I love you, you know that right?” 

“John, I knew you loved me before you did. I just took a while to catch up.” 

“Come on you great git, let’s watch some crap telly, drink tea, and get some sleep. I’ve got an early day at the surgery.”

“John you don’t go in until 11, I hardly think that counts as early.”

“Don’t spoil surprises. Drink your damn tea, and tell Stephen Fry how wrong he is. It’ll put me right out.” 

 

The next morning, John slipped out of bed, took his shower and left the flat with Sherlock still snoring. He would never admit it, but with that nose? Of course he snored. John had gone so far as to record it and Sherlock not only denied it was him, said that John had doctored it. When John said it was a camera on his phone, his phone went missing. Then was destroyed in the microwave. Later that day he had a new one in his jacket pocket. He never tried to do that again. Heaven forbid if Sherlock had a flaw. (That John adored because it meant that Sherlock actually did sleep and did not exist merely on the knowledge that he was smarter than everyone in the room.) 

He had one little stop to make. A small something, but all the websites, and chats he had with other Doms and some subs suggested having a “collar.” It’s so you know you’re in the scene. It sets the mood so to speak. He hated the thought of anything on Sherlock’s neck, he wanted that open, he wanted to be able to lick sweat off of it, but a bracelet, that, that could be okay. Sherlock would never wear anything normal. Only the best for him, he cost a pretty pound, but it was just a sleek silver cuff. Not overly large, no design on it, just a small engraving on the inside, “We know now.” 

The surgery was tough to get through that day. Little biddies with coughs, spogs with strep. Same thing after another after another. At least his last patient needed a cast for his wrist, it took up some time. He stretched out writing his notes in the charts, he didn’t dread coming home, but for the first time in a year, he was nervous about a date. And it wasn’t even a date. He knew at the end of the night he would get off, (hell, he could even deny Sherlock) but still. All the research, the watching, the picking out toys. The safe-words, everything was making this bigger than them. And that was the last thing John wanted. That’s what the inscription meant, they know now. They know their love will be enough. They will fight, John will still ask Lestrade if he could kip on the couch because he found fingers (FUCKING FINGERS) in the sugar bowl, but they could do it. If anyone was actually supposed to be together, to learn about each other's bodies in ways no one else had, it would be them. 

John got out of the shower, and started toweling off. He was ready, thinking about Sherlock up there, waiting for him made his cock twinge. He could and would do this. Bringing a fresh flannel to his room, he picked up his gift for Sherlock. He hadn’t decided until that moment that he would give it to him before. Afterward would be a reward, and this was not a reward. This was a gift, given freely, like his submission to him. John didn’t know how badly he wanted it, until it was given. 

He stood there for a moment outside of the door, took a deep breath in, and opened. it. 

“Look at you, waiting for me. You’ve already done so well Sherlock, I’m sure your knees are aching.” 

Sherlock did not even move, he gave no indication that anyone else was in the room with him. 

“So good already, crawl to me Sherlock.” 

He lowered his hands from his thighs to the floor, and with a little bit more wiggle than necessary, crawled to John. “Kiss the tops of my feet.” A slight hesitation, then Sherlock bent down, and kissed the top of John’s left foot almost opened mouthed, and then proceeded to do the same to John’s right foot.

“So good, you like this, Sherlock you don’t hardly have to touch me, and I’m hard. You may look. I have something else for you as well.” Sherlock looked up at John, pure desire in his eyes. Yes, yes he wanted this too. Sherlock was already so hard he was leaking pre-cum down his stomach, onto his thighs. John wanted to lick them. He decided he would. “You may answer when I ask you a question tonight Sherlock, you may also be vocal. It’s the first time, I would rather not be cruel.” His face softened around his eyes, the hard lines going away, some of his youth still peeking through. “Would you like your gift? Hold out your hands.” 

Sherlock stared at the cuff, running his fingers through it. John could see the questions starting to form on his lips, he cut him off before Sherlock could start. “In this room, you are giving me a gift, your submission. In this room, I will look after you. I will cater to your needs as well as my own. I will do what is best for you, but I trust in you to tell me when it’s not enough, and when I go to far. I trust that you will do the same. In here, you will wear this cuff. It’s a reminder that you are mine. We know now, Sherlock. And that is enough.” 

A rare Sherlock smile was given to John as he put on the cuff, and then put his hands flat on his thighs resting on his heels waiting for further instruction. 

“Crawl to the bed, lay shoulders down, arms flat and forward with your head to the right side. Keep that pretty arse in the air for me.” 

Sherlock did as he was told, this time with a little less swinging in his arse. John caught the glimpse of rubber peaking out a bit, and while he didn’t say not to be ready for John, he didn’t say that he should already be open. That was one of John’s favorite parts, the foreplay. Maybe on this first time around the anticipation got Sherlock to amped up, John made a mental note to include that in the aftercare, do not prepare unless stated. 

“I am going to put three floggers beside you on your right side Sherlock. You will pick one.” There’s that Captain voice, that voice that forced people to listen. To submit. He laid out the flogger with the leather tip, the flogger with the rabbit tip, and the flogger with the vinyl tip. He hoped Sherlock didn’t go for the latter, it didn’t feel right yet ( he had practiced on a pillow for days ) but this was for Sherlock as much as himself. He took an inward sigh of relief when Sherlock picked the rabbit tip. An introduction if you will. “Count for me Sherlock, and thank me after each one. If you don’t we will start over. You may come anytime you need to tonight, but once you do, you will bring me off in the way I see fit.” 

Thawk. “One, thank you Sir.”  
Thawk, just hitting a little bit higher than the first mark. “Two, Thank you Sir.”  
Thawk, just a little further down, closer to the thigh. “Three, Thank you Sir.”  
Thawk, John moved other cheek, starting to work his way up. “Four, Thank you Sir.”  
Thawk, this one had a large moan behind it, and a bit of shaking. “Five, Thank you sir.”  
Thawk, silence, and a long deep breath came from Sherlock, his voice was shaking. “Six, thank you sir.” 

“It’s a bit different with a plug in, isn’t it Sherlock? To be so full, and the force of the plug already nudging your prostate, getting a jolt every time?” 

Sherlock’s teeth were starting to grind, his cock had turned a dark color, the head already out of the foreskin. John was sure if he so much as put his lips to it, he would come. He wasn’t ready for that yet. Not this early. “Yes sir.” he was forcing the words out. 

“Touch me Sherlock. Slowly.” Sherlock pulled himself up with great effort, sliding around so that he was facing John. He was dripping in sweat, and looking as wrecked as John had ever seen him. It was intoxicating. Nothing in his life had been so erotic. Sherlock had started off with light teasing touches up and down his arms. With a bit of a scratch that almost felt like an itch, he then started going down John’s chest with the same scratching motion. John just let his head slink back again, feeling every sensation, deciding what he was going to do next. He reached his hand up into Sherlock’s mouth, sliding his thumb over that perfect cupid’s bow. Sherlock had moved to this thighs, this time, the scratching just a bit rougher. He was encouraging John, begging him to take him silently. Please, scratch up the leg, please take me, down the leg, touch me, up the leg, anything, down the leg. “Stop, please go back to your sitting position.” 

It was the first time Sherlock hesitated, and the first time John could see where a limit would be. He left him up here too long. In getting his mind ready for tonight, he already made the base mistake, he was forgetting Sherlock’s needs. They weren’t at the point at denial yet, and oh, John thought, how glorious that would be. 

“Sherlock, I want you to reach around, and slowly remove that plug out, I want you to remove a little, count to three, and then remove a little more, each time pressing in just a little bit on your prostate.” Deep breaths John, you can do this. You can watch this and not turn him over and fuck him senseless. He had read that scenes and play didn’t always end in sex, and when first starting out, it would be good to test limits this way. His self control was wavering, he started to lightly pull on his erection, just bringing his foreskin up a bit over the head and rubbing it down a bit, he wouldn’t last long, that was sure. 

Sherlock sat up on his heels, and reached behind himself, and pulled a little bit out with a hiss, “one, two, three,” pulled a little bit more out, and his eyes widened his stomach sticky with pre-cum and sweat, “one, two, three,” godsiridontknow, pulled a little more out, “one, two, three,” he was almost biting through his lip his legs were shaking so hard he could barely stay in the position he was in, he pulled out a little more, “one, two, three,” and Sherlock came, pulling the rest of the plug out, a high keening sound coming out of his throat, with deep pants, gulping for air. 

John didn’t last long, a few quick strokes and firm pressure to his head and he spilled all over his hands. He didn’t care if he came or not actually, that wasn’t the point. Sherlock was wrecked. panting, groaning. John reached over and pulled the cuff off, the scene was done. He handed Sherlock a glass of water. “Drink. Drink, please.” He gulped it down in one. “I brought you a flannel, but I am going to run you a bath, do you need me to stay for a moment?” He asked stroking Sherlock’s softly. 

“No John, the bath sounds good. Yes, very good.” His breathing was starting to even out. “I will be down shortly.” 

John almost tripped over his own feet going down the stairs. For him, tonight had gone better than he hoped for, better than expected. This was.. this was perfect. He tested the water, and it was warm, but not hot (didn’t want to aggravate anything) and Sherlock had already slunk in behind him, lowering himself into the bath. 

John started to lather a flannel, washing Sherlock’s back lightly, easing the muscles that had been held in position for so long. Down his arms, down his chest, down his legs. He had grabbed the shampoo before Sherlock had even said a word. “John, what you did with the cuff. That was, that was good.” 

He had started to leather the messy curls, taking the smell of sex and sweat with it. “Good, I’m glad. We know now Sherlock, just as you’ve always known.” he said with a small smile. 

“Maybe next time I won’t use the plug before hand.”

“Maybe next time you’ll wait for instructions, Sherlock.” he had started to rinse out the soap. “Budge up, I need another wash.” 

“Maybe next time you won’t have me wait so long.” Yes, yes that was a smirk in that tone. 

“I’m just happy there’s going to be a next time.” 

“John, I’ve already so many ideas.” 

“There’s my genius.” 

“How do you feel about sex in public?” 

“One thing at a time Sherlock. Get out of the tub you git, let me put some ointment on your arse, and get some rest. If you say you’re not tired Sherlock, so help me I’ll actually be offended.” 

“Nothing of the sort John, pass me a towel.” he started to dry off his hair, “I do love you John. I think I may not say it enough. Affection and emotion isn’t my strong suit, but for you, it’s there.” 

“I know now Sherlock.” Now let’s get some rest, yeah? 

“John I should warn you, I wasn’t sure what was going to happen and I might have,” But John had already opened the door to Sherlock’s room. 

“Where did you find a dead pig, and why is half of it on the bloody fucking bed Sherlock? What in the hell is going on in your mind, you know what, I don’t, go get some tarp you’re not keeping this. It already smells. Fuck, I’ll not be able to eat bacon for a while. Christ is that IS THAT IT’S PIGLETS WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU.” 

Only so much can change in 221B after all.


End file.
